Days to Remember
by starrystarryeyes
Summary: Mainly about Fillmore and Ingrid. There's a new crime at X Middle School, but something happens to one of the dynamic duo! [COMPLETE]added borders
1. Act I: KILL vs LIFE

_Disclaimer: I don't own Fillmore! Wish I did though… It would be showing everyday if I did. Disney's crazy and needs to put Fillmore! back on the map._

_Read carefully and you might understand the title._

X.x.X.x.X.x

Act I: KILL vs. LIFE

X Middle School refectory:

"Hey Ingrid, this is Fillmore. Do you read me? Over." The static was there but Officer Third could still understand what he was saying.

"That's affirmative. Over."

Fillmore smiled, _Of course I can always count on you Ingrid._ The curvature of his mouth was soon no more as he saw a shadowy figure cross the cafeteria.

"The suspect is in view and heading towards the southwest double doors," Fillmore called into his two-way radio. "Requesting cover, over and out."

As he made his way across the commons, Ingrid soon joined his side.

"Betcha there's gonna be a chase," Ingrid grinned.

"Your probably right, but I'll take that chance," Fillmore said as they walked as fast as possible without being too inconspicuous. "If you're right, which you almost certainly are, I'll take you to Papa Cracky's sometime for lunch."

"It's a deal."

As soon as they were about to shake on it, a cart full of potted forget-me-nots rushed right towards them. The illustrious duo jumped in opposite directions while each mentally checked if the other was all right. They each nodded their heads, and simultaneously reading each other's minds. The looks in their eyes were: _I'm, okay, you? Let's do our thing._

They got up and without bothering to brush off the dust, their feet hit the ground running, brusquely, yet somehow like a hypnotizing dance that they had practiced over and over. They ran down the halls, dodging the various students and clubs.

Just as they were about to apprehend their guy, he ducked into a crowd of paper protesters, ironically holding up signs made of the stuff they were defending. But their name was even more satirical. They were Kids Into Loving Life. Some kids joined it just to avoid doing homework or tests, claiming that to use paper was to desecrate nature.

Fillmore and Ingrid tried to hurry past the group but in vain. They were soon met with a flyer with information about his organization. Ingrid raised her eyebrows as if saying, 'Paper?' The boy who shoved it into her face nearly exploded, and sounded exasperated as he said, "It's NOT made from trees. We would never disrespect nature in that way. It's _linen_ paper. Just because it is paper, does NOT mean that it's made from trees! Why do you tree blasphemers always think that?"

Ingrid just shrugged as she grabbed the handout, knowing that the boy would not let them go if they didn't. They finally got through as they boy called out, "Love life!"

"Where did our guy go?" Fillmore murmured to no one in particular.

Suddenly a blur of grey shot forward from the corner of his eye.

"Stop! Safety Patrol!" Fillmore yelled.

Ingrid shook her head, "They never listen."

"Yeah, but it's standard procedure," he responded.

"Looks like we're headed towards the pottery club," Fillmore noted.

"I'll take the west entrance and you can take the north. Call for back-up, just in case," Ingrid planned audibly to her partner.

"I'm on it."

Ingrid closed her eyes for a few precious seconds so her eyes could adjust to the dark. She took out her flashlight and traced across the room. It was quiet as it was dark. Not a thing stirred.

X.x.X.x.X.x

_Why do they always do this? Run away at the sight of a patroller to the darkest and creepiest place they can think of. _Fillmore was complaining in his thoughts. _Well, this _is_ what I live for. Hope Ingrid is faring better. _

His thoughts were soon jarred by the cacophonous sound of ceramic breaking. Lights immediately blinded him as his mind was racing. He recognized an outline of grey as well as Ingrid shielding her eyes. Then he saw something that Ingrid didn't. The outline of grey was holding a misshapen clay jar and was setting up for a throw with Ingrid as his target.

Lights flashed on and Ingrid's green eyes squinted and she raised a hand to them. They soon widened, as an obscure terracotta form was being aimed at her head. The figure was smiling yet he looked as if he was hesitating to throw. "Ingrid!" she automatically turned her head to the familiar voice, which was spiked with trepidation.

Just as she turned her head, the clay jar made contact with her head.

"Noo!" Fillmore cried while running towards the assailant. But he did not react in time. A thud was heard as Ingrid's head collided with the tiled floor as the grey character had gone out through the west exit. To Fillmore, everything was running in slow motion. He kneeled by the fallen Ingrid, who was unconscious either by the jar or hitting her head on the floor, he wasn't sure. He noted that there was red streaking her hair, that wasn't there before and was quickly running down her face. He wondered where his back up was when he had called them. It seemed like it was ages ago when he had done so, but his watch told him it was only a few minutes.

Vallejo, Anza, and Tehama finally appeared with Danny trailing behind. Gasps were heard, and Fillmore told them to hurry up and get help. Tehama ran to the nurse's office, and came back with a stretcher and medics. Fillmore was then forced to relive the whole ordeal and told his colleagues what had just occurred.

_Man, it was all my fault. If only I didn't call her. She would have dodged out of the way or something. Or I could have snuck up from behind that guy and then tackle him. I should've done something else, anything besides calling her. _

X.x.X.x.X.x

_Inside HQ/Glee Club Annex, afternoon:_

"Stop beating yourself about it, Fillmore. It wasn't your fault. You need to concentrate on the case, for Ingrid's sake," Vallejo said, trying to console the safety patrol officer.

"Yeah, I know, man. But it's hard. Her not being here doesn't feel right," Fillmore replied miserably.

"Try to get your mind off it. The doc said she'll be back here tomorrow, and all she got was a minor concussion. Besides, there's a time limit for you guys. One is Folsom breathing down our necks and the other is one of the suspects."

Vallejo was right. He was a delinquent, although Safety Patrol could never prove it. His dad was tired of them showing up at their house only to find out that they couldn't prove his son guilty. It was "a waste of his time and harassment to a student. Just because he was convicted once, didn't mean he was a multiple time offender…Next time you kids bother my son and can't prove anything, I sending in a complaint to your Principal Folsom and to the school board about your incompetence."

Vallejo continued, "Let's review this case. There's some kind of double agent in different conflicting clubs. Like in Science Kids Forever and the Hip Crowd. After that fiasco our guy was both in Band-Lovers and Football Players Forever. He or she is passing information about the other clubs, which they use against each other. Now, we're not sure which clubs he's in but we think that Limits In False Establishments is one of them. They don't like kids who start clubs to get away from doing work. There are several organizations against it, and we have no way of limiting the list. We checked the suspects' records to see if they joined anything recently, but there's no match. We think that our guy is using some kind of alias. Our best chance at anything would be to interrogate each suspect."

Fillmore picked up three files and carried on after him, "Suspect one, Rita Wellington. Known for attracting attention to herself. Is in the drama club, and I hear that she's pretty good at performances. Will do anything for publicity. Suspect two, Donny Levine. Caught in card embezzlement. Suspected in later crimes but never caught. Was on baseball team but removed for said offense. Known for being able to talk. Can talk way out of anything and messes with people's heads. Suspect three, Andrew Banner. Delinquent who frequently hires himself out to do other people's dirty work. Claims to be the best hand there is to get anywhere and into anything."

Vallejo gave a low whistle. "Sounds like a tough bunch to handle. Careful Fillmore…"

The bell rang, interrupting the commissioner.

"Okay, be back here tomorrow ASAP. I know that you plan to visit Ingrid after this. Tell her we miss her and hope she gets well soon."

"Will do, sir."

At the hospital, Ariella and Mr. Third are standing next to Ingrid:

Ingrid slowly opened her eyes. She looked around the room.

"What happened? Where am I?" she asked, bewildered.

"Shh. It's going to be okay. You got hurt, but you'll be back home soon," Mr. Third said, trying to soothe his daughter.

"Fillmore's been so worried about you. He's been standing outside blaming himself for what happened. I'll go get him," Ariella offered, opening the door.

Ariella soon returned with a concerned Fillmore, who was holding a get-well card signed by himself, Vallejo, Tehama, Anza, and O'Farrell and flowers just like those in the cart that had nearly bowled them over.

"Fillmore?"

_A/N:_

_Well, do you guys understand the chapter title now?_

_I'm sorry if anyone's OOC. I also apologize if something doesn't make sense._

I have a couple of clues in the story about what's gonna happen. Try and guess what happened to Ingrid. Please Review.


	2. Act II: Questions, and Answers?

_A/N: Thank you to all of those who reviewed my last chapter. I apologize for the long wait. I have several things to blame, like school HW, tests, and projects, but I will take the responsibility (hanging head in shame). On the brighter side of things, this chapter is really long. Hope you Enjoy:_

X.x.X.x.X.x

Act II: Questions. and Answers?

"Ingrid. We've missed you back at HQ. I'm really sorry about this," Fillmore said quickly and offering her the forget-me-nots, feeling heavy and an intense need to express himself. He looked into her deep green eyes for amnesty, but something was wrong. What he found instead was a look of bafflement and perplexity. "Ingrid, what's wrong?"

Ingrid looked for help in her sister and father's faces. She received expressions expecting something. She turned back to face the boy.

"W-who are you?" she asked earnestly.

Fillmore, taken aback dropped the flowers. "What? Ingrid, don't you know me? It's me, Fillmore," he explained gently as possible. He hoped it was enough.

Ingrid just shook her head slowly and held her gaze. "I'm sorry. Dad, Ariella, what's going on?"

Mr. Third and Ariella stared at each other, raising their eyebrows. Ariella reached for the nurse button and gave it a press.

"Ingrid, don't you remember Fillmore? He's your best friend, your partner?" Ariella tried to help.

Ingrid shook her head once again. She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples, as she usually does when she tries to remember something.

"Safety patrol? X Middle School?" Ariella went on.

Fillmore tried to help, "Tehama, Vallejo, Anza, O' Farrell, Folsom… anything?"

"Who are they? What are you guys talking about?" Ingrid said, eyebrows furrowing and feeling edgy.

A man dressed in white and wearing sterile gloves enters the room. "Is there anything wrong?"

Mr. Third steps up to him, "Yes, my daughter doesn't seem to remember a lot of things…"

"Don't worry. I'll get the doctor and she'll diagnose," then checks clipboard, "Ms. Third in no time."

There was an awkward thickness that permeated the air. Fillmore walked to Ariella and Mr. Third. "I don't think it's a good idea for me to stay in here. I'll wait outside the room."

"Sure thing, Fillmore," Ariella replied.

Fillmore tried sitting down, then pacing up and down the corridor. Finally, the nurse returned with the doctor. He decided to stand outside the door, and listen. That way, he could find out what was wrong without letting Ingrid feel uncomfortable with a "stranger" standing next to her. Ariella saw him and nodded her head in approval.

**Mr. Third**: Hello, Ms., I mean, Dr. Cooper. I'm really worried about Ingrid. She doesn't seem to remember anything…

**Dr. Cooper**: (raises eyebrows) Hmmm. (Looks at clip board) Interesting. I'm surprised that the nurse didn't check for brain damage because of the strike on her head.

**Mr. Third**: (aghast) What!

**Dr. Cooper**: Don't worry. I still have yet to diagnose her, Mr. Third. (walks to Ingrid's side) How are you feeling, Ingrid?

**Ingrid**: Fine. Just a little headache.

**Dr. Cooper**: (writes on clipboard) What's the last thing you remember.

**Ingrid**: It was afternoon. The day before school is supposed to start…

**Dr. Cooper**: What year?

**Ingrid**: My seventh grade year. (She caught on) What - How long have I been in school?

**Mr. Third**: (softly) Honey, you're in the middle of your second semester.

Fillmore sees Ingrid's stunned face, and starts to turn around to leave.

"Wait, Fillmore."

He turned around and got to Ingrid's side.

"I still don't know who you are, but can you please help me?"

"You know I would, I mean, sure," Fillmore answered, not sure whether to be disappointed she didn't remember, or relieved that she wanted his help. He also felt a little disheartened because he had failed to avoid her detection.

"Thanks," Ingrid said quietly.

Dr. Cooper, "Well, I've finished running my diagnostics. It appears to me that Ingrid has transient global amnesia. It can occur when someone's head gets struck twice in two certain places of the cranium. She has an extreme case of this type of amnesia. Usually the amnesiac's memory returns in as short as 30 to 60 minutes, but in Ingrid's circumstance it will last up to twenty-four hours. After we give you an MRI to check for any brain damage, we'll see if you'll be free to go.

The scans went without fault. Mr. Third offered Fillmore a ride home and dinner. Fillmore called his parents and they Okayed it. Ingrid went to the bathroom to put on her regular clothes, combat boots and all. She came out holding an orange belt and a puzzled face.

"That's your Safety Patrol belt," Fillmore explained.

She nodded her head as if she understood but didn't put it on.

The drive home seemed interminable. After ten minutes, Ariella couldn't take it anymore.

"Soo. How's Safety Patrol, Fillmore?" Ariella asked to break the silence.

"Not too good. We have a case that has to be solved by the end of the day tomorrow. Ingrid, would it be okay if I, uh, talked to you after dinner about, school, the case, anything you might have forgotten?"

"Well, I guess it would be alright," she replied slowly.

"I think that would be a great idea. That way, he can tell you your classes and anything else you need to know," Mr. Third followed.

They finally arrived at the Third residence. Mr. Third and Ariella prepared dinner. Fillmore offered to help, but they politely declined. He went with Ingrid to her room. There is an awkward silence. Ingrid looked around her room, and sighed.

"What's the matter?" Fillmore automatically asked.

"All lot of things, I guess," Ingrid sighed once more.

"You can tell me. We're best friends, and you don't deserve this," Fillmore reassured her.

"Thanks. For everything. I'm not used to, at least I don't remember, anyone besides family being as nice to me as you are…"

Fillmore cut her off, "If this happened to me, I'm sure you'd do the same."

"I'm still in shock. My room, everything in this house looks different from what I remember. Even Ariella and my dad don't look the same. It's as if I went fast forward through time, but what's more, didn't experience anything in between. So if you don't mind, can you help me? I know a few things like, I go to X Middle School, and…" she rubbed her temples, "Principal Folsom. She's tall, seems angry or worried all the time. I saw her at a school tour once."

Fillmore chuckled, "That sounds right. You're part of X Middle School's safety patrol…" This continued until dinner was ready, through it, and after. Fillmore talked about Safety Patrol, Tehama, Anza, O'Farrell and Vallejo. He talked about the X and it's variety of clubs and mass school spirit. Ingrid smiled and nodded as she took it all in. Before long, it was time for Fillmore to go home.

"Thanks, Mr. Third for dinner and everything."

"No, thank you," Mr. Third countered, and gave him a gratified look.

"Ingrid, I'll come by here at 7 in the morning and we can walk to school together."

"Sounds good," was the response.

X.x.X.x.X.x

_Fillmore residence, evening_

Fillmore entered his home with a resounding sigh.

"Hey, mom," he greeted.

"So how's Ingrid?"

"Not too good, not too bad. She has amnesia, but she'll recover in a day or less…" Fillmore said. "I need to make a couple of calls, okay?"

"Well I hope she gets better," she called out as he went to the phone.

He punches in a couple of numbers, "Hey Vallejo, it's me, Fillmore. It's about Ingrid-"

X.x.X.x.X.x

_6:59 AM Third Residence_

Ingrid stood outside her front door, arms crossed and leaning across a wall. Fillmore reached her just as his watch hits the next minute. _She's wearing her orange belt. _She looks complete, unlike at the hospital when she was holding out her belt. At the moment he saw her, he forgot about the past day's events and smiles. In the next second, he is pulled back to reality, and his smile weakens slightly.

"Hey," he greeted, "Ready?"

"Yeah, but truth be told, I'm kinda nervous," Ingrid said, not knowing why she was opening up to him.

"Don't worry," I've got things settled with Vallejo. You don't have to go to any of your classes and I don't either. We'll be working on the case all day.

The two began walking as Ingrid's face becomes less taut. When they reached X, Ingrid let out an almost inaudible gasp. _This place is huge. How did Fillmore and I catch all those kids like he said we did? And I have a feeling that those were only a few…_

"Well this is it. Let's get to HQ," Fillmore said, interrupting her thoughts and awe.

X.x.X.x.X.x

_Headquarters_

"Vallejo! What are you doing here this early?" Fillmore questioned the Commissioner. "And Tehama, Anza, and O'Farrell. You guys usually aren't here until another half hour."

Tehama, "Well we figured that after what happened, that you and Ingrid would be here early, too."

"We've missed you, Ingrid," O'Farrell said dramatically. "Those scary doctors didn't hurt you did they," he said hugging her.

Ingrid stiffened and looked desperately towards Fillmore for help.

Vallejo, seeing this, "Uh, O'Farrell. Remember what we discussed last night phone conferencing with Fillmore?"

"Oh. Riiiight. (winks) Uh, sorry, miss," saluted her, "I'm Danny O'Farrell. Safety Patrol's photographer." Then gives her a quick hug, "And I've really missed you."

"Uhm, okay," Ingrid started hesitantly, "Nice to meet you, Danny."

The rest of Safety Patrol made their introductions and it was soon 7:30.

"Dawg. The time I wanted to save to work on the case was wasted," Fillmore grumbled slightly.

"Well, not really. This way, I know who everyone is, what they do, and what they can help me with. They're all really nice, too," Ingrid said.

"I guess so. Well, we've got to plan our day. I suggest that we do some interrogations first. Then we review our information, and hopefully we'll pick something up," Fillmore suggested.

"Let's get started," Ingrid agreed.

The first questioning with Rita Wellington and the second with Andrew Banner were fine, except for one thing. They both had solid excuses, being on stage and being in detention, respectively. The final interrogation with Donny Levine was brutal. Ingrid stood behind the false mirror as Fillmore did the cross-examination. She watched intently as Fillmore did his stuff.

X.x.X.x.X.x

**Fillmore**: Do you know why you're here?

**Donny**: Yeah. I'm a suspect, and now ya need to question me. But I have one question for ya self. Why are _you_ here?

**Fillmore**: I'm here because I'm a safety patrol officer. I'm doing my job.

**Donny**: Right, right. (He folds his hands together, touches them to his forehead and looks down) But still. (He pauses for a few seconds and shifts his head up) I'm a sayin you's a betta watch out.

**Fillmore**: And why's that? (chuckles) You're gonna order your cronies to come after me? That won't be possible if you're all serving time in detention.

**Donny**: Nah. You guys have nothing on me. What I'm saying is, you're nothing. Especially because of your partner… (snaps fingers, trying to pull out a name) Ingrid Third.

**Fillmore**: What are you talking about? We're partners, equals. Are you saying I'm jealous of her, 'cuz I'm not.

**Donny**: Man, you're not readin' me. But now that I think of it, you should be.

**Fillmore**: Stop playing games with me, Levine. You're in enough trouble as it is.

**Donny**: Fine. Let me spoon-feed it to you. You. Are. Nothing. (Fillmore tries to interject. Donny raises hand and looks Fillmore straight in the eye.) Before Ingrid came, you were flying solo and catching all your guys. Now you're dependent. Ingrid, she's smart, everyone knows that and smarter than you. When Ingrid was still a bit green, it was your name, Fillmore, that everyone knew. If some guys on the shadowy side of the alley heard your name, they knew who you was, that they had to watch out for you. She needed you then. But now, Ingrid ain't so new anymore. Delinquents know her. So now, she has smarts and a name. She could do just as fine without you, in all probability, better. And you, (shakes head), you've lost your touch. If it weren't for you, she'd probably be okay. Instead, she got hit in the head with a jar. So your wrong, you are _not_ equals. And she is the greater.

**Fillmore**: Know what? I heard about this. The way you can drive anyone crazy in a matter of minutes, and that's if you're nice. Too bad for you, it's only giving me a headache, so I'm going to step outside, and when I come back, you better be cooperating and answer my questions. You better watch out. Ingrid's my partner and my best friend. You have crossed the line with what you said. (He gets up and makes for the door.) And whatever's beyond that line is none of your business.

_Outside of the Interrogation Room_

Ingrid was feeling more helpless then when she had when she learned that her memory had gone, at least temporarily. Her ability to remember had failed, and that was what shaped her and what she relied on. Now, she could not help this boy whom she "just met" but is her best friend. It was obvious to her that he was lying when he said that Donny's mind play didn't work. She didn't know how, for it was not in the way he said so or the way he acted when he was talking; he was too experienced to let emotions show. There was some connection with him that she felt. Because the whole time before the tables where turned on this interrogation, she sensed his confidence. And as Donny spoke, she was aware of Fillmore breaking down. What he was feeling was probably the same as what she was experiencing now. A fear of being useless. Ingrid met up with Fillmore outside.

"Dawg! It's so frustrating trying to talk to that guy. I have a gut feeling he did it. But we don't have any proof besides my instinct. And I'm starting to believe what he says."

"I know what your feeling. But you can't just give up and let him win. Something tells me that you're not that kind of person to. He's going to slip up soon, if he already hasn't. He's getting to proud for him own good. Hopefully, he'll tell you something. If not, then luck be with us when we look for the right club."

She hoped that it was the right thing to say. She needed him to be back to normal.

"Thanks, Ingrid. Maybe you should come with me inside there."

"No, but thanks for the offer. That would just prove his point."

"Right," Fillmore remembered. Before he opened the door, he took in a deep breath.

X.x.X.x.X.x

"I was beginning to think that you left me, never to return," Donny said, inspecting his fingernails and leaning his chair back, with his feet propped up on the table.

"Sit up straight. This isn't a lounge," Fillmore paused as Donny changes his position. "A few minutes ago, I was going about it all wrong. I let you distract me. So from now on, the only words that come out of your mouths are ones that will answer my questions. Understand?"

"Heh. Whatever you say, belt."

"Where were you last Tuesday at lunch?"

No response.

"Let me repeat that, in case you didn't hear. Where Were You Last Tuesday At lunch."

Still no answer.

"Fine. A different question. What do you know about Limits In False Establishments, a.k.a. LIFE?

Donny's left eye slightly twitched at that last query but nothing came out of Levine's mouth.

"What's up with you? A while ago, you wouldn't shut up," Fillmore said, exasperated.

"Nothing, belt. Just practicin' my right to remain silent," spoke Donny with a smirk.

"I don't believe this."

Vallejo enters inside the interrogation room.

"Levine. Get back to class."

Donny gets up and struts out.

"Why'd you let him go?" Fillmore asked. "He hasn't said anything yet."

"Sorry, Fillmore. Folsom's orders," Vallejo explained. "Besides, it was obvious that he wasn't going to give anything. I guess we taped it in vain. But you and Ingrid are gonna need as much time as possible to check out those clubs. Here's the list."

Fillmore took the stack of paper and flipped through it and gave a low whistle. "There's at least twenty-five clubs on here. How are we gonna check all of them today?"

"Go in A-B-C order," Vallejo shrugged.

X.x.X.x.X.x

_A/N: I have a lot of clues in there. I hope this was good. I thought this chapter was pretty difficult to write, especially the first part with Ingrid in the hospital. I found it hard to make it dramatic and have the characters not be OOC. I'm really sorry about that…_


	3. Act III: Not So Trivial Pursuit

Act III: Not Quite Trivial Pursuit

_Safety Patrol HQ_

Fillmore paced by Ingrid's desk for two reasons. He was contemplating the dilemma and waiting for Ingrid to come back from the restroom. _Well, each club has membership cards with picture identity. Which is sort of ironic considering they don't check if the kid's giving his real name or not. But that's only because a lot of the kids like having nicknames or they're embarrassed about being in some clubs. That would be the perfect evidence, though, to catch our guy. We could give the clubs amnesty if they turn him over. They wouldn't want bad publicity. But which club?_

X.x.X.x.X.x

_A Hallway Somewhere in X_

_I don't believe this. I have a photographic memory, but I can't find my way back from the restroom to HQ. I guess I was too busy watching all those kids in their classrooms. A lot of them clumped together and apparently are part of clubs. Train conductor outfits, bocce ball uniforms, and lobster shirts. This school has a lot of spirit. Weird spirit... A bell rang, interrupting her thoughts. She checked her watch. It's 12:30, passing period to lunch. I guess I should ask one of these kids for directions._

Ingrid approached a boy wearing a reversed cap and baggy clothes.

"Excuse me, but can you please direct me to HQ?"

"Whoa, whoa baby. For the smartest girl in the school, you sure is forgetful. Unless this is an excuse to hang with _the _Checkmatey. Then I dig ya. Let's go," he said putting an arm around her.

Ingrid disgusted, lifted Checkmatey's arm off her. "Walking will be fine, without _any_ physical contact."

The boy put his hands up in a truce. "I like 'em hot." He then proceeded to give her a flashy smile.

Ingrid's only response was rolling her eyes and gritting her teeth.

X.x.X.x.X.x

_Safety Patrol HQ_

Fillmore was still pacing when Ingrid came back. He was surprised to see her with a familiar rapping, chess grandmaster.

"Hey, Ingrid," Fillmore smiled warmly. "Checkmatey," he greeted nodding his head.

"Good to see you, too, Officer," Checkmatey responded just as coolly.

"How are things going?" Fillmore asked, trying to be civil.

"Girls chasin' me everywhere, winning chess comps… the usual. I'm also thinking of joining this club, Kids Into Loving Life. They love trees. Seriously, man who speaks for the trees? Not to mention, it can help me get out of doing homework, ya know what I'm saying?" Checkmatey winked and nudged.

"If you're implying that I don't do my homework, then no. I don't know what you're saying." Fillmore answered, with a touch of annoyance in his voice.

"You're all work and no play, officer. Real boring," Checkmatey said as he faked an exaggerated yawn.

The two boys were glaring daggers, and although no one could see Fillmore's eyes behind his glasses, one could easily note that his eyebrows were furrowed as deep as the trouble he gets into with Folsom.

Ingrid could feel the tension in the air. Before anything could start, she interjected, "Aren't your chess pieces made of wood?"

Checkmatey softened and Fillmore likewise alleviated.

"I guess you're right, sweet thang. I'll just stick to chess club. No matter how boring it gets. I'm probably the only one who can spice things up."

Ingrid rolled her eyes once more, "I'm sure."

Checkmatey didn't seem to notice this gesture, "Of course ya are. Hey, Fillmore, can I talk to you about something, man to man?"

Fillmore was caught off guard. "Uh, sure." He then told Ingrid to talk to Tehama about any evidence that might have turned up. Fillmore then directed Checkmatey to his desk. "So what do you want?"

Checkmatey holds his hand next to his mouth as if he was about to expel a secret. "Word on the street is that Ingrid, is well, kinda, not all together. Ya know. Crazy. I wasn't sure if I should believe it cuz words on the street usually are overkill of the facts. When I walked Ingrid, she wasn't crazy. But she acted as if she forgot a lot of stuff. She even let me rap to her. What I figure is that she got some forgetfulness going on and that's it. Maybe a mental breakdown or something from being so dang smart. I asked around, but no one could answer that question. I got my down lo from that club I was checking out. I know how it works: tippers are anonymous. But I'm doin' this cuz I'm helping a damsel in distress, or some crud like that. I'm just that kind of guy. But she'll back soon. Right?"

Fillmore nodded his head in agreement.

Checkmatey, now relieved, "To tell you the truth, I thought about telling her that I was her boyfriend, but then that would be bad sportsmanship. If I captured her, that would be like, breaking the rules. So, I won't steal her from you yet."

Fillmore became rigid. He didn't like the idea of Ingrid Third being compared to a pawn that Checkmatey could easily take. "Thank you for your time. But, it's time for you to go. I have a job to do."

Checkmatey, "You're in denial, man. I can tell when someone likes someone. And not the plain like, the double like. The _like_ like. I have plenty of fan girls. I've the experience, man."

Fillmore, "I said 'go'!

Checkmatey, "A'ite, a'ite." He puts his hands in the air as a truce. "I know when I'm not wanted." He freezes and opens his eyes wide. "Whoa, is that, like, even possible?"

Fillmore walked back to Ingrid fuming. Twice in a couple of days, two kids told him what he was thinking. At least, what they thought he was thinking. His face never showed whether they were right or not.

Ingrid saw him. "Are you okay? You look kinda, mad."

"I just can't stand the guy," Fillmore said.

"Oh, did he rap to you, too?" Ingrid asked.

Fillmore laughed at hearing this, "No, it's just his personality. You heard him rap? How was it? Did he rhyme this time?

Ingrid raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, never mind," Fillmore said, quickly catching his mistake.

"No problem. It was terrible. He rhymed, but it was lacking beat…" she shook her head.

Fillmore, "Anyways. I found out some news from him. Like your memory loss isn't exactly a big secret."

"That explains it, then," Ingrid mumbled to herself.

"Explains what?" Fillmore asked.

"Well, when you were interviewing Donny Levine, he said, 'If it weren't for you, she'd probably be okay. Instead, she got hit in the head with a jar.' So, the fact that he knows this isn't a big deal," Ingrid said.

"Hold up. He said how you got hurt? How did I not get that? It's not like he was getting to me or anything… But then that's it. No one knows how you got hurt, just Levine. All we need is a club ID, and we've got him. But which club?"

"I'm not sure, but something's still bothering me. Kids Into Loving Life. Where did I here that name before?" Ingrid asked out loud to herself. She rubs her temples and closes her eyes. They're one of the clubs we have to investigate. Something about paper and pretty keen about getting kids to join," Ingrid remembered.

"Snap! Follow me and I'll explain on the way. We have a couple of stops before we meet him face to face. Lunch is almost over, so the clubs are going to start disassembling," Fillmore explained as he pulled Ingrid's arm.

They sprinted through the cafeteria as Ingrid asked, "If it's a good time, how about you explain to me what were doing."

"We are gonna catch our guy. And if we're lucky, red-handed. We were trying to catch him before, but he outsmarted us by running through a K.I.L.L. rally. Since they recognized him as one of their own, they let him pass through, whereas we got mobbed into picking up some brochures. If he's passing information, then it'll be at the end of lunch in an office with the club president because by then the regular club members will be trying to close up until tomorrow. Here we are," Fillmore said with the words tumbling out of his mouth as fast as he could say them.

Just as they were about to enter a room, two tough-looking bodyguards stopped them. "No one passes. The CP is in a meeting. He said not to be disturbed," one of them said.

Fillmore pulled out a badge and a piece of paper, "Safety Patrol, and here's our warrant. Now let us through."

"I know who you are. You busted me a couple of weeks ago. Don't think that because we have a past means that you're gonna get through," a guard sneered.

"I'm not messing around. This a Code Maroon dash five-niner-niner subset A."

The bodyguard looked worriedly at the other, "Whoa, he means business. Let's get out of here!"

Ingrid had a puzzled look on her face. "And that was?"

"It's code for possible dismemberment of club with pending detention. Or something like that," Fillmore smiled.

X.x.X.x.X.x

_K.I.L.L. Head Quarters_

"-and now that our transaction is complete, you may feel free to leave our club, Mr…. What did you say your name was?" the Club President of K.I.L.L. asked.

"That does not matter. As you said, I am free to go. Have a nice-"

"Stop! Safety Patrol!" Fillmore said as the partners flashed their badges.

Levine quickly scanned the room. Fillmore was coming towards him and Ingrid was blocking the door. The CP was on the floor cringing in the fetal position. He slowly backed away. "I see Ms. Third has recuperated from her, accident. But I've heard that the lights aren't all there," Levine smiled mischievously.

"And it seems that none of yours are on at all," Ingrid said. "You've no where to run."

"So says Miss Amnesia!" Levine exclaimed, and with that he deftly opened a window and dived through it.

Fillmore chuckled and shook his head. He pulled out his talkie, "Phase 1 is complete. Proceed with Phase 2. Over and out."

X.x.X.x.X.x

_Baseball Dugout, Beginning of Period 5_

Fillmore and Ingrid walked to the PE field. They needed to save any energy for a chase and they had to make sure that everything was falling into plan.

Ingrid noted some foliage right next to the dugout. Then a flicker of movement appeared out of the corner of Ingrid's eye. She silently directed Fillmore to follow her. As they neared a bush, a figure darted out to the playing field.

Fillmore yelled out, "Andrew Banner! Halt, this is Safety Patrol. You run, you'll be serving a few more weeks of detention with possibility of paper pick-up duty. You stop, and maybe we'll be able to negotiate."

The kid stopped putting his hands up. He then kneeled over and began to sob. They had him and he was so close.

X.x.X.x.X.x

_Interrogation Room_

Vallejo hitched his thumb pointing to a door. "Fillmore, Third. Folsom wants you in her office, pronto. I'll take care of this."

Fillmore sighed, "I was hoping she'd forget our daily ritual."

Fillmore walked to Principal Folsom's office in the manner of a thief who goes to prison time after time. He wasn't looking forward to it; nevertheless, no matter what they did the duo ended up going. Ingrid, having no past experience about what was going to ensue had her 'passive' look on. She sensed that she wasn't going to like what ever it was that was going to transpire. They reached the door, groaned, knocked, sighed once more and then entered. They looked at Folsom who nodded at the chairs. They sat down, Fillmore mentally bracing himself.

"I'm going to cut to the chase with the two of you. What in the name of Lobstee are you two doing! First, you interrogate the son of a man who can put my employment at stake. Then you offer amnesty to any club that will turn him in. Now, you come up with a whole new twist, that there is another student. A conspiracy. A likely story! Oh, but joy, you haven't wreaked destruction on school property, yet. What will it be this time, a couple dozen computers? A few shipments of school supplies? I only want one answer to that question! And it better be nothing. This school is not here to pay your expenses. Believe me, they will be paid, by you of course. I understand that Ms. Third has a temporary, handicap, so she, of course, will be pardoned. We can't afford to blemish the good name of X's smartest student. But you Fillmore, you've been forgiven before. This time, I'm not risking safety patrol. No, this time, if you fail, you will be stripped of your badge, sent to a boot camp, and if you ever attend a school, public or private, you will never be able to join the respected league of orange belts. Do I make myself clear? Understand that this is no bluff and that I can and will do what I deem necessary."

Fillmore looked straight ahead, "Yes, Principal Folsom. I know what is at stake, for you and I. Now that this is all clear, I will mention that Ingrid and I now have an hour to catch our culprit. We already have the other. May we please be excused?" Fillmore said all of this in a monotone voice, with a hint of annoyance. If his words had eyes, they'd have rolled.

X.x.X.x.X.x

_Safety Patrol HQ_

"Wow, that was a pretty bad beating. Usually she's calm, like right before a storm, and then she rages. This time, she was raging then exploded. More like a volcano, maybe," Fillmore said, scratching his chin as if were in thought.

"Come on, Fillmore. Focus. But I got to admit, I didn't a person could be that loud and purplish red for that long and not get a heart attack," Ingrid replied.

Vallejo walked towards them. "I was wondering when you two would be back. Banner was as easy to crack as a pistachio. He admitted everything. Here, listen to the tape." He pressed play.

**Banners: **sniffling Yes sir, he needed me to open up the pottery room. I don't know why, though... And then he wanted me to break into the dug out where he said he'd pay me. I thought I'd check the place early, just in case. I'm scheduled to meet him, say oh checks his watch fifteen minutes from now.

**Vallejo: **What do you know about Rita Wellington?

**Banners: **Oh that miss? She's quite the actress and a beauty. Caught Mister Levine's eye that one. He wanted her to join him, and improve his skills of pretense. But she wanted nothing to do with him. She knew all about him, the rumors and all. She wants publicity, but she's also planning to run for something. Not sure what. But with him hanging around would be asking for trouble. As revenge, Mister Levine decided to have her name up on the list of suspects. It would also have helped throw you belts off the trail.

Vallejo stops the tape. He motions them to follow, setting a brisk pace. "That's enough," he said. We're on a tight schedule. As you two just heard, the meeting with Levine is about to take place. I sent Anza and Tehama ahead. We're not going to let him escape this time."

X.x.X.x.X.x

_Baseball Dugout, 15 minutes into Period 5_

A dark figure waited inside, tapping his foot impatiently. He hears the rattle of the doorknob, it getting picked, and finally the hinges squeaking open revealing a hooded teenager.

"I'd thought you wouldn't make it. Let's get this over with," he said.

Fillmore pulls down the hood. "We're about to."

Levine's eyes open wide. He looks around and grabs a bucket of baseballs. "You saw what I did to Ingrid. And that was with a pot. I have 30 balls in here. There's no way you'd make it. Unless,"

Fillmore took off his sweater, revealing a catcher's outfit. "I'm wearing this?"

Levine dropped the bucket with disbelief. As it clanked, he used that as a distraction to make a mad dash past the officer blocking his way. Fillmore tried to stop him. Unfortunately, his apparel hindered him, and it was awkward for him to move around.

As soon as Levine thought he was in the clear, another couple of officers popped up in front of him. They were Tehama and O'Farrell, the "back-up" called for by Vallejo.

"Cease, you villainous villain!" O'Farrell cried out. Tehama just shook her head and lunged to tackle the rogue, but Levine just slid under her grasp. O'Farrell immediately went to see to Tehama. She was bruised and had a limp, nothing too serious for her to handle. But apparently it was for the Irish boy; he passed out.

It looked like Levine was home-free once more, but then again, that saying, "looks can be deceiving," comes to mind. Ingrid ran out from her hiding spot and chased after him. Levine entered the school building. He planned to lose her in the large winding hallways of X.

The chase appeared as if it could go on forever. Both persons had advantages and weaknesses. They were both in good shape. One a boy who spent his time training for a team he could not join, and the other a girl who spent all her days chasing suspects. Ingrid was surprised at her own endurance and ability; however, Levine knew his capabilities.

He was very sure that he would not get caught. _This girl doesn't know where anything is. She lost her memory._ Even though he came just this year, he was pretty sure of himself. Ingrid was always ever so close to catching him, but every time he eluded her. When she was sneaking up from the right he swerved left and vice-versa. _This is too easy_, Levine grinned as he thought. He turned around to check on where Ingrid was. Still behind. Then he smacked into a wall. Trapped! _I don't believe this. She led me right to here!_

"That was pretty lucky of you," Levine said smoothly as his eyes quickly scanned the premises.

"There's no escape. No windows, just lockers. We checked this place out in case there were any escape routes. There are none," Ingrid said, equally suave only keeping her eyes on him.

_Finally. I thought these two were the best, but it took them long enough to catch me._

X.x.X.x.X.x

_A/N: Hope you enjoyed this tidbit. I know it probably annoyed a lot of you for how long it took me to update. I've just been brain dead for a couple of months like that dude in that soap opera. jk. I don't watch soaps. This is coming to a close, though. I know it's short, but that's the way it's gonna be, unless I change my mind._


	4. Epilogue

_To any readers who lost faith in me:_

_I'm sorry. Actually, I'm supposed to be doing homework and studying right now, but I've become so guilt-stricken I just _had_ to get this story out and done. In fact, I haven't really read and Fillmore fics in a while as a means to punish myself. Now I can do so, without feeling so guilty. Yayz!_

X.x.X.x.X.x

_Epilogue_

"'I want my Daddy'? Are you sure he said that?" O'Farrell asked.

"Yup. Besides, what's wrong with him asking for his dad. It happens sometimes when suspects get caught. They guilt trip and end up telling a parent or two," Fillmore answered.

"No it's not that. It's that he used the word 'Daddy.' Don't you see? His _dad_ is the CEO of not one but three big companies. How he did that, no one knows. He's majorly successful and business is his life. No son of his would **_ever_** call him 'Daddy.' Father would be more fitting. And because his kid goes to X Middle School, he practically sponsors half the clubs, whether his son is in them or not. The kid wears suits for crying out loud, when he's in his father's presence. That's probably why Folsom is on her tip toes. If he is unhappy with X then he'll stop sponsoring. And if he stops sponsoring, that makes Folsom look bad. And if she looks bad…" O'Farrell gave a dramatic pause, "she might get fired."

"Whoa, I didn't know that," Ingrid said.

"O'Farrell, since when did Safety Patrol's photographer know so much?" Fillmore asked.

"Thanks Fillmore," O'Farrell said taking it as a compliment.

"No, what I meant was… oh never mind. Ingrid let's go. Mr. Levine is probably here by now and we need to finish the questioning," said Fillmore.

"I think it'd be a good idea if you bring a psychologist," laughed O'Farrell. "I have a feeling some people are going to be driven crazy."

X.x.X.x.X.x

_Interrogation Room (yet again)_

**Mr. Levine**: What is the meaning of this! Don't you people understand I have a busy schedule? I have a 1:30 appointment in CellevineTech Industries, a 2:15 appointment at YumMart Inc. about selling Levine Edibles, _and_ another appointment following those at Levinestate, Realty Company that I just CANNOT miss! If you cause any further delay, so help me, I will-

Fillmore gave Ingrid an impressed look. _Wow. He's covered technology, food and homes. Smart entrepreneur…_

**Ingrid**: Please relax, Mr. Levine. We see that you are a busy, err, business man, but right now we are here to discuss your _son_. (They had actually gone to the school psychologist first, causing the delay, who gave them a bunch of cards with psychological things to say. Ingrid briefly sped read them. The psychologist decided to stay on the other side of the two way mirror, briefly muttering something about going to school with Mr. Levine and never wanting to be in his presence again.) _These cards just might prove helpful._

Mr. Levine became mentally stunned for a moment, but on the outside he remained stoic. He wasn't fantastic at his job without reason.

**Fillmore**: Do you realize, Mr. Levine, how much trouble your son is causing in this school?

**Mr. Levine**: Yes. Yes, I do. I'm willing to pay for any damages of course –

**Fillmore**: Do you know _why_ your son is causing trouble.

He looks to his father, wondering what his answer will be.

**Mr. Levine**: Yes. That would be uhm. Well you see, he is a natural trouble maker. Ever since I can remember he's been doing foolish things…

**Donny**: (interrupting his father) That's a lie! Dad,

**Mr. Levine**: Now, what did I say about calling me that in public? It's very unprofessional!

**Ingrid**: Mr. Levine, if you'd please let your son continue.

**Levine**: Dad, you don't even let me call you that at home. Ever since mom died, you've been to busy to do anything with me. We used to go to the park to play ball. What happened to that?

**Mr. Levine**: Why you little ingrateful runt. The reason why I've been so busy was to support this family to make sure that you were happy!

**Donny**: I was happi_er_ the way things used to be, going to the park and all. When you would actually spend time _with_ me!

Ingrid and Fillmore look slightly uncomfortable. They give each other a look and both got up to leave the interrogation room. This was a discussion in which neither of them needed to be involved in. The Levines did not notice them make their exit; their "discussion" was too intense.

X.x.X.x.X.x

"Phew. Was it uncomfortable in there or what?" Fillmore exclaimed as soon as the door shut. "I didn't know Donny had family issues. I hope it turns out for the best."

Ingrid replied, "Yeah. I kinda feel sorry for him. He'd have to be feeling a lot of things emotionally to have come up with a plan like that. Just to get his dad's attention, too!"

"Yup. Let's go hear what happens next with Vallejo. I don't think it'd be wise to step back into the IR just yet," Fillmore said.

Ingrid agreed and just as they opened the door, the school psychologist walked out and headed towards the interrogation room.

"A miracle. Simply a miracle. Now I can go in there without becoming emotionally unstable for a week," the psychologist smiled.

"Uh, Fillmore. Why does our school psychologist talk to himself?" Ingrid asked earnestly.

"I honestly don't know, Ingrid," Fillmore said shaking his head, trying to suppress a laugh.

They entered the room to find Folsom's eyes wet, Vallejo blowing his nose into a hanky, Tehama sort of sniffling and O'Farrell downright crying. Fillmore and Ingrid both looked through the glass to see father and son hugging, smiling, and crying at the same time, with a psychologist patting their backs and his own as well. He later said it was so that his own back wouldn't feel left out.

"Beautiful. That was so beautiful. Because of that I won't have to take Tehama to watch a chick flick for a couple of weeks," O'Farrell said in between sobs.

Fillmore raised his eyebrows. "You watch chick flicks?" he asked O'Farrell, but Tehama answered.

"I guess it's the inner chick inside me. Ya know, Ingrid sometimes tags along with us."

"I do!" Ingrid exclaimed. Then she froze for a split second and stared into space, as if trying to digest some information. "Maybe Fillmore should come the next time we go. He could use a good cry every once in a while," Ingrid joked. "Right, _Cornelius_?"

"Hey, what did I say about using my first…" This time it was Fillmore's turn to freeze. "I never told you my first name today. Tehama, O'Farrell?"

"I didn't tell her," Tehama said slowly.

"Woot. She's back. She's back! Our beloved Ingrid Third is back!" O'Farrell screamed as he did a quick Irish jig.

"Thanks, Fillmore. For being there through it all. You guys, too, Karen and Danny," Ingrid said happily.

"Group hug!" O'Farrell said ramming into them with surprising force.

"What's all this commotion?" asked Folsom who was busy drying up her eyes hoping that no one saw her crying in public.

"Ingrid's got her memory back," O'Farrell informed, in a rather sing-songish voice.

Vallejo whirled around, "Really?" 

_His nose blowing must have been really loud, to not have heard O'Farrell_, everyone else thought.

X.x.X.x.X.x

_Later that day._

"Hello, Ms. Ingrid. Fillmore," Donny greeted them.

"What's with the formalities? I thought you made up with your dad," Fillmore questioned.

Donny waved hand. "I did, but I didn't make up with Ms. Ingrid here. I'm truly, most sincerely sorry about, uhm that," he said indicating her head.

"Well, I'd be lying if I said if I said that it was no big deal," Ingrid said.

Donny winced hearing this. "But, it was for a good cause, and it worked. But next time, think twice before throwing jars at people's head. I have a good source that says it really hurts."

Donny chuckles slightly, "I'm sure I will. By the way, my dad's willing to pay for any hospital expenses as well as anything that Safety Patrol damages. I hear that it happens frequently."

Fillmore, "I bet you heard that from Folsom. That'd be awesome, but you'd probably have to talk to Folsom about money matters."

Ingrid, "Yeah, and your dad would have to talk to my dad about the hospital expenses."

Both Ingrid and Fillmore, "But thanks for the offer."

"Jinks you owe me a soda," Ingrid said.

"Dawg, that's the third time this month," Fillmore said shaking his head.

"Hope you guys have a good one," Donny good-byed leaving them.

Folsom afterwards came up to them and complimented them on the good job, and how since Mr. Levine offered to pay for any more damages, (she looked at Fillmore in the eye) that she would never threaten Safety Patrol's existence again. Of course, this was forgotten by her the following week, but hey. Who's keeping track?

X.x.X.x.X.x

_A/N_: _I really, really hope you guys enjoyed this fic and that it wasn't a waste of your time to read. I know, it gets kinda family/friends mushy at the end, but that's just the way I saw it coming._


End file.
